


Lost/Found

by xxenjoy



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Polyamory, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Reconciliation, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: When Jaskier finally makes it to the bottom of the mountain, feeling very alone and unwanted, he runs into the last person he expects (and the last person he wants to see): another Witcher.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 147
Kudos: 1542
Collections: Geralt is Sorry, Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **a/n:** I realize in book canon, Geralt and Eskel look very much alike, but in game canon they don't and that's what I'm going off or Eskel's appearance soo
> 
> **also:** you guys are amazing and I love every single one of your comments but there are _so many_ and because I'm a disaster, I don't have time to reply to all of them! Just know I love every single one of you and your comments make me so damn happy 💜

Jaskier thought he understood heartbreak. His family had all but abandoned him when he told them about his bardic ambitions and he's lost more lovers than most people have in their lifetime. He knows that heartbreak hurts, that it lingers, and that eventually, it passes. But what he feels now, standing on the top of this mountain, is so much more than any of that. It's not even really a feeling, but a lack thereof; eventually Geralt's words will hit home and he'll be able to cope with the sting of rejection, but not now. Right now all he feels is a chilling numbness that creeps into his limbs. 

He suspects this is what it feels like to lose a spouse. Not that he and Geralt were ever like that. 

He wants to fight against Geralt's words, but he sees the anger in his eyes, anger currently directed right at him and he can't move. Even at their lowest point, Geralt never shouted at him like this. 

"Right," is all he can think of to say, "uh, right then." Unshed tears burn his eyes, but he won't let Geralt see him cry. Instead, he pulls himself together. "I'll... I'll go get the rest of the story from the others. See you around, Geralt."

He won't go and get the story from the others and he won't see Geralt, not if he can help it. He doesn't care about the story anymore; right now he doesn't care about anything other than getting off this mountain and getting out of the line of fire. After that, he doesn’t know. 

He turns in place, thinking too hard about putting one foot in front of the other and he trips, only just catching himself before falling. He doesn't stop to collect himself and he makes his way back to camp in silence. Briefly, Jaskier wonders if he'll run into Yennefer on his way down and dreads how that conversation might go. More than likely, though, she used one of her portals and is long gone by now. He wishes he could do the same. 

When he arrives at the camp, it's still thankfully empty, the others not having made it down yet. Jaskier collects the few things he'd left this morning and realizes with a start that most of his belongings are still with Geralt. The only things he has with him are his lute, his notebook and a few unimportant bits and pieces. But it's not as though he can go and ask for them back now, Geralt has made it blatantly obvious that all he is is a nuisance. 

It seems his first stop will have to be an inn. If he's lucky maybe someone will take pity on him and let him stay for free because he hasn't been earning much lately. Geralt has been taking care of that. 

When he's finished, Jaskier takes a quick look around to see if anyone else has returned and, finding himself alone, turns toward the path down the mountain. He tries to work out what he's going to do with himself when he gets down, but he can't think further than getting somewhere with food and a bed. Or even just somewhere he might stay dry if it rains. He remembers the innkeeper being friendly at The Pensive Dragon and wonders if they might strike up a bargain. He's not feeling particularly cheerful, but he'd be willing to provide entertainment in return for somewhere to stay. 

His feet drag, dislodging rocks and bits of debris and Jaskier has to focus to keep from tripping up again. His body feels heavy, like it's only continuing on because he forces it to and it's already given up the fight. 

It's not until late evening that he realizes he's going to have to make camp for the night. Thankfully, it looks like a clear night, but there's not much shelter and he doesn't want to run into one of those _things_ again without Geralt around to fight it off. His stomach clenches at the thought of him and Jaskier stops mid-step. 

He sits down on the side of the path as his chest heaves and he can't seem to find his breath. Geralt is really gone, he realizes. No more talking around the fire at night, no more amicable silence along the road, nothing. Jaskier needs to learn to live on his own again and without the assistance of wealthy lovers because he has nothing to offer them in return at this point. He feels sick and he lies back against the uneven ground in an attempt to calm the ache in his stomach. It doesn't help. 

Far enough down the path to be fully alone, Jaskier lets himself cry. He lets himself feel the anger and the betrayal and the utter despair that seizes his body. For two decades he's had someone at his side who he could consider a friend and now, like before, he's alone in the world. And what makes it worse is that maybe it was one-sided all along. Maybe Geralt never wanted him around, maybe he only put up with him because Jaskier was good for his reputation. At least he did until it didn't matter anymore. 

He can't breathe, he can't think and so he lies still in this little patch of dirt, uncaring that he'll be filthy in the morning. And he tries desperately not to think about how hard he tried to love Geralt, how everything he did was to help him. Because he did and he does; he'd be a fool to believe otherwise. When he shuts his eyes, another tear slips down his cheek and he squeezes his eyes harder. 

The next time he opens them, it's to the faint light of dawn. It would be a beautiful morning, he knows, but his back aches and his eyes burn and he wonders what might come and eat him if he just laid still for long enough. But he doesn't and eventually, he hauls himself to his feet and brushes the dust off himself as best he can. It takes him a long time, but he makes it down to the foot of the mountain. 

When he sees Roach, his heart clenches again and he instinctively shuts his eyes to block out the pain. But he can't not say goodbye. She whinnies at him and he can hear the way she dances excitedly; it's not often she's left alone for so long and she must be happy for the company. He sighs and crosses over to where she's tethered, knowing there's nothing he can do to soothe her loneliness. 

"Hey girl," he whispers, approaching cautiously. She bumps him with her head and Jaskier stumbles back a few steps, caught off guard. "I know," he breathes, running a hand up the side of her face. "We wouldn't have left you if we didn't have to."

Jaskier pulls away, leaning instead on the bit of fencing and fiddling with her reins. She bumps his head until he looks up and he realizes she's confused. "Where's Geralt, right?" he asks and the name sticks on his tongue. "He'll be back for you, don't worry. He couldn't get by without you." He doesn't mean it to come out quite as accusatory as it does and he chides himself for it immediately.

"Sorry," he says, "it's not your fault. I wish I had something for you. Make sure Geralt gives you lots of carrots okay? I know he won't give you sugar cubes and I'm sorry about that. Next time I see you I promise I'll have some." He sighs and slips his hand through her mane and she steadies herself like he's about to climb up. 

"Not this time. I'll miss you," he says and as he turns away again, he runs his fingers down her neck. He can hear her, even as he walks away, stomping in defiance. "Believe me," he says to himself, "I don't want to go."

When he reaches the inn, Jaskier is exhausted and barely makes it inside before collapsing into a seat by the fire. He sets his things down beside him on the bench. The innkeeper brings him water and bread, telling him he looks half-dead and Jaskier is too thankful to begrudge him that. He asks for a room for the night and the response he gets is underwhelming. 

It's not even a response, just a remorseful sound in the back of the man's throat and Jaskier nods, understanding. He'd like to help, but- Jaskier doesn't even need to know what the _but_ is, but the innkeeper seems sincere and he thanks him anyway. 

Alone again, Jaskier drinks as much of the water as he can stomach. He leaves the bread for now, wrapping it to save for later. Doubtlessly, he'll want it more then. He doesn't feel much like eating now anyway, so he sits and basks in the heat of the fire while he has it. He'll miss that, too, before long. He stays for a little while longer, but the inn starts to fill up and as people start to drink and get rowdy, Jaskier knows that's his cue to leave. Normally he would be right at home amongst them, happy to share a drink with a stranger, but not tonight. Tonight, he doesn't feel like doing much of anything. 

As he slips into the cool evening air, he realizes he has to find somewhere to sleep. Again. At least it's not winter, he thinks bitterly. The air is cooling down from the summer, but it's not cold yet and by the time it does get cold, he will have bought himself better supplies. 

He's only taken a few steps when he hears the wild bleating of a goat and the shout of a man. He doesn't think much of it until the goat, head down and ready to butt him, nearly runs right into him. In his confusion, Jaskier stumbles back, following the goat as it runs right past, uncaring. He keeps walking slowly back, wondering what a loose goat is doing so far from any farm. He doesn't recall seeing any on their way in and it's so far north- 

He hears the voice again, shouting and much closer than before. Jaskier stops and turns, just in time for the man who owns the voice to come barreling toward him. If the rest of his life goes this way, he may as well have stayed up there on the side of the mountain path. 

Strong arms catch him as he stumbles to get out of the way and Jaskier realizes with a start that the man is in full armour. He pauses, his heart thudding heavily in his chest and looks up. The man is talking to him, he realizes, asking if he's alright maybe, but Jaskier doesn't hear him. He takes in the build of him - _large_ , his brain supplies, helpfully - and his reflexes have him squirming in his arms. He's suspicious before he even looks up to the man's face and the jagged scars down the right side of his face confirm Jaskier's theory. This man is a witcher. 

His eyes are gold and share the same vertical pupils as Geralt and Jaskier panics, pushing against his chest to get away. The Witcher must think he's afraid because he lets go immediately, but Jaskier doesn't run away. He takes in his full appearance; further away from him, the Witcher’s resemblance to Geralt fails and Jaskier's heart settles a little. 

This Witcher has dark hair, shorter than Geralt's and Jaskier thinks absently that shorter hair would serve a Witcher much better. He says nothing and looks at the few feet of ground between them. When he glances up, the man is talking again, maybe wondering why Jaskier isn't running away or cursing him for being a foul mutant or any sort of other reaction a Witcher might expect.

"Sorry," Jaskier mutters, finally finding his voice. He still can't quite meet the other man's eyes, but he looks up at him. The man stops mid-sentence and Jaskier mentally backtracks, realizing the Witcher was in the middle of an apology of his own. 

"She's normally better behaved," he says, "well..." he casts a look behind Jaskier and when Jaskier turns, the goat is grazing quietly just next to the inn. "I'm sorry."

"No trouble," Jaskier says because he doesn't want to start a fight with a Witcher. Especially not over a goat. 

"Are you alright?"

Jaskier's head lifts instinctively and those amber eyes are focused on him, squinted in worry. "Fine," he says. But it's clear he's not believed. 

"Come, let me buy you a drink at least. To make up for nearly running you over. Twice."

Jaskier opens his mouth to argue, but he stops himself. He doesn't want to be alone and even if this man is a perfect stranger and a friend of Geralt's - if his pendant is anything to go by - he'd rather have a drink with him than carry on alone. Jaskier silently agrees and the man lifts the corner of his mouth in a smile. 

"I'm Eskel," he says, stepping around Jaskier to tend to the goat. 

"Ja- Julian."


	2. Chapter 2

The inn is warm but Jaskier hasn't eaten all day and his body refuses to retain any of the heat. He has the bread tucked away from earlier, but he still feels nauseous so he sits and shivers and pretends not to be hungry when Eskel offers. Still, the Witcher orders more food than one person could hope to eat and Jaskier's stomach turns uncomfortably. He's just being kind, he realizes, but Jaskier's never been shown this much kindness in his life, by a perfect stranger, no less. A stranger who is probably best friends with the man who no longer wants him. _Fuck._

He shuts his eyes and rubs his hands on his thighs, trying to hide the chill. He should know better than to try and keep something from a Witcher, but he does it nonetheless. And, of course, it doesn't work. 

"You're cold," Eskel says. "I can hear your teeth chattering."

"I'm alright."

"Hm." Eskel pushes himself up from his seat and strides across the room. Jaskier watches after him. He's gone for some time and when he returns he has warm drinks. He slides one across the table and Jaskier takes the mug between his hands, pulling it into him. He's glad for the heat, but still not sure why Eskel is being so kind to him. He doesn't deserve it. He's done nothing his whole life but become a burden. 

"I arranged for a bath," Eskel says and Jaskier lifts his head at that, staring across the table questioningly. Under regular circumstances, he would probably jump at the chance to bathe with him. But these aren't regular circumstances and Jaskier doesn't feel like doing much of anything. 

"For you," he clarifies. "To warm you up."

"Why?" Jaskier blurts. 

"Because someone hurt you badly and no one deserves that kind of pain."

"Oh." _Shit_ , Witcher. But if he can- If Eskel can tell how he feels, that means Geralt could too. The second those words left his mouth, Geralt knew exactly what he'd done and he didn't stop. He didn't take them back and he didn't try to go after him. Jaskier shuts his eyes and tries to force the thoughts out of his head, but they're stuck.

He doesn't realize Eskel has gotten up until a hand rests on his shoulder soft, tentative. He guides Jaskier to his feet and once Jaskier has gathered his things, Eskel takes him upstairs to his room. There's a large bath tucked into the corner next to the fire and he leaves Jaskier alone with it. 

Once Eskel has left, Jaskier rids himself of his clothes, piling them neatly on the table beside the bath. He shivers even in front of the fire, but he knows it has nothing to do with the heat. He wants this to be over, to wake up and find out the whole thing was a terrible nightmare and Geralt is still there- But how could he? After he said those things, why does he still want him? He's been broken up with by everyone he's ever been with, so why does this, the end of a non-existent friendship hurt so much more?

He steps into the bath cautiously, testing the water before sinking in completely. It feels good and it's been a long time since he could really enjoy a bath. Most inns with Geralt were in and out with time just enough to eat and sleep and clean the grime from their bodies. Fleetingly, Jaskier wonders why Eskel isn't in a rush to leave. And he wonders again, why he's doing all of this. There's no good reason for a perfect stranger to offer him food and drink and a warm bath. 

Going off his limited knowledge of Witchers, he's not in any immediate danger. Not, at least, of anything but being abandoned again when Eskel decides it's time to move on. Which is fine, Jaskier's not attached. 

When he's finished in the bath, he changes into his last pair of clean clothes, frowning. It may be a long time before he can have them laundered, and he hates washing his own clothes in the river. Not that that ever bothered Geralt. He stops the thought before it can go any further, shoving his dirty clothes into his pack and gathering his things together again. He heads downstairs to find Eskel and let him know he can have his room back, but he finds himself turned back around and marched back upstairs. He's not in any mood to argue about a warm bed, so he keeps quiet. 

Eskel sleeps on the floor - "still better than having a root in your back," he says - and gives Jaskier the bed. It's a kind gesture, but the bed feels too big without someone in it with him. The last time he stayed at an inn they had to share and Jaskeir found he slept much better with a warm body pressed against his back. Not that Geralt had realized, nor had Jaskier ever mentioned it. He tucks the blankets around himself now to feel less exposed and shuts his eyes to try and sleep. 

He worries too much to relax. Everything that's happened tonight has thrown his entire relationship with Geralt into question. Are Witchers just like that? Do they just share their food and bed with the first person who comes along and isn't terrified of them? He doubts it, but the thought won't allow him any peace. 

Eskel is already asleep, breathing steadily beneath him and the sound of his breath is what eventually lulls Jaskier to sleep. 

In the morning, Eskel is still there. He's moving around the room when Jaskier rises, readying himself to leave. Jaskier watches him for a moment before Eskel turns his attention on him with a faint smile. He takes a plate from the shelf in front of him and sets it on the edge of the bed. 

"Help yourself," he says. 

Jaskier inspects the assortment of pastries before picking one off the plate and biting into it tentatively. He still hasn't eaten in a full day and he suspects his stomach won't be pleased to be fed sweets first thing.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" he asks and Eskel doesn't even stop what he's doing.

"You were miserable, I couldn't just leave you on the side of the road. Especially after I almost ran you over."

"Thank you," Jaskier says quietly, considering the roll in his hands. 

"Where are you off to from here?"

"I... don't know, actually. I don't have anywhere to be. I could stop in at Cintra, I suppose, I haven't been in a while."

"How do you feel about Redania?"

Jaskier gives him a suspicious look. "That's where I was born, why?"

"Because that's where I'm headed next and it's been a long time since I've had someone to travel with."

Jaskier likes travelling with Eskel and after a couple of weeks, he even relaxes around him. And it's much easier to look forward to the future when you have someone who helps to keep you from thinking about the past. Eskel is never any less warm and thoughtful than he was the first night - at least not with him. Jaskier learns in a hurry that he's not a man to be messed with under any circumstances, and that includes the goat. 

She's more stubborn than Roach, which is saying something, but Jaskier loves her despite their first interaction. And the fact that she tries to headbutt him often. She likes fruits though, and Jaskier takes great care to make sure the pieces he feeds her are small enough that she doesn’t choke. He suspects his closeness with the goat is part of the reason Eskel comes to trust him the way he does. Jaskier once saw him threaten a man's life when Lil' Bleater was mistakenly penned with a herd of farm goats and it had been the first time he'd really smiled since leaving that mountaintop - watching a Witcher threaten an aging farmer over a _goat_. But Eskel loves that damn goat and Jaskier knows something of loyalty to those you love. 

He doesn't think so often about Geralt anymore, and when he does it's usually by accident or in a dream. He hates those nights because he wakes up breathless and unable to relax again. Most times, it wakes Eskel up and Jaskier hates that he's already being a nuisance again, even if Eskel assures him that he's not. Jaskier doesn't tell him about the dreams and Eskel doesn't ask. He understands that there are things Jaskier wants to keep to himself and he doesn't press. Though, there are nights when Jaskier finds he would rather talk about it than continue to hold it in. 

Somewhere along the way, Jaskier starts performing again. It's not a conscious decision, but it feels right. He needs something to do while Eskel is off killing things, after all. The only thing he refuses is to sing about Geralt. Luckily, those songs are well known enough that other bards play them now and they're not requested nearly as often as they once were. 

They're at an inn in Hamm, heading north from visiting Cintra, when it finally happens. Jaskier's struck with the idea for a song and he digs out his notebook from his pack, setting it on the table in front of him. They've been here for two days while Eskel hunts a pack of werewolves that seems to have dispersed within the forest. Jaskier plays at the inn in the evenings and he's killing time until then. The perfect time for inspiration to hit. Only when he opens his notebook, his whole body grows cold. The last thing written was a love song - or, it was supposed to be. 

He frowns at the lyrics, scratching out a few lines and re-writing them below. A few of them, he only changes the words, but it still seems wrong. He can't _hear_ it. And so, with a sigh, Jaskier packs up his things and goes outside to sit in the grass and try to work out the tune of the song. 

It's cold when the wind blows, but it's better suited to the song than the warmth of the inn and Jaskier shuts his eyes. His fingers move smoothly against the strings of his lute, picking out the tune he'd had in mind before the song had been forgotten. It's what he was working on when Borch first showed up and he wonders bitterly if he had just told the old man to leave right then if things could have been different. Though they could also have been worse if Geralt had come back to find his things stolen and Jaskier still sitting there. 

It doesn't matter anymore, he tells himself. But a small voice reminds him that if it really didn't matter, he wouldn't have let himself be sidetracked by this song. 

He ignores the voice and carries on, humming along at first until he finds a tune that he likes. His voice shakes the first time he sings it out loud, but it feels better to get it out and as he sings the words for the first time, he's surprised to find how accurate they are. 

He stays outside until it gets dark and he needs to go inside and ready himself. There's a woman sitting close to him who keeps looking up and smiling and for the first time, Jaskier considers taking her to bed with him. It's been a long time and he's not as miserable as he used to be, maybe it's time to start. Except three songs in she pipes up and asks him to play the song he was singing earlier and he can feel the blood drain from his face. But he never turns down a request, and maybe it's time for another first as well. 

Eskel walks through the doors, bloody and stinking of something awful, just as Jaskier starts. And he catches his eye just for a brief moment, leaning against the door frame to listen. Somehow, with him standing there, it feels harder and Jaskier has to restart the song after catching his breath. 

" _The fairer sex they often call it, but her love's as unfair as a crook…_ "

He makes it through the song unscathed, but when he finishes, there's murmuring amongst the guests. A few of them come up to him and start chattering at him and Jaskier smiles politely, but he can't think over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. This was a mistake. He thanks them all, again and again, avoiding questions regarding who the song is about and he manages to slip out of the crowd and up to their room without too much trouble. 

He shuts the door and leans against it for a moment, catching his breath. What if Eskel figures it out? He's not stupid and it's widely known that Jaskier used to travel with Geralt, it's right there in the songs. He feels guilty for lying and stupid for thinking Eskel would never figure it out. It's not as though he's said bad things about Geralt, but he hasn't been pleasant about him either and he _knows_ the two Witchers know each other. He's seen Eskel's medallion, they're from the same school. 

Jaskier never lies to his friends and this is exactly why. It makes things messy and when your life isn't in danger, there's no reason not to be honest; even Geralt forgave him for the stupid things he did. So why did he lie to Eskel? They hadn't been travelling together at the time, there was no reason for him not to tell him about Geralt. He told him his name was Julian, which he isn't in a habit of doing, but that was to protect himself had things gone badly. 

Well, there's nothing for it now; he's going to have to tell Eskel the truth before he figures it out or someone else brings it up. The last thing he wants is to lose another friend over something so trivial. 

Jaskier takes his lute and puts it away, gently arranging the contents of its case and sets it against the wall next to the bed. The thought of losing Eskel burns in his chest and he goes over what he's going to say to him, repeating the words over and over in his head until a knock on the door pulls him back to the present. The door pushes open a moment later and Eskel looks in at him. 

"Is everything alright? You left in a hurry."

"Fine," Jaskier grins, another lie. "I'm going to turn in early tonight, I'm tired." 

"I was thinking the same. We should get an early start." Eskel comes into the room, turning the door and locking it behind him. Jaskier watches as he readies himself for bed, silently begging himself to _say something_ but he can't find the words. 

Something clicks then, that he hadn't realized before. Jaskier likes having a travelling companion, he doesn't like being alone and lately, he hasn't wanted to seek out that companionship. And Eskel has been there, so he didn't think anything about it. But it _is_ different, he realizes. He likes having Eskel around, but maybe it's more than that. As he sits quietly on the bed, watching the Witcher undress, he realizes having him around might not be all he wants. And maybe that’s what makes telling him about Geralt so difficult.

He pushes those thoughts firmly out of his head. He doesn't want to make that mistake again. 

Because it would be so easy to fall in love with Eskel, but Eskel doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve the love of someone who is still so desperately in love with someone else. Jaskier shuts his eyes and lays back against the pillows. He doesn't want to think about Geralt anymore, but it doesn't stop him and having another Witcher at his side doesn't exactly deter memories. 

Eskel is much more open about his, well, everything, but it's hard not to be more open than Geralt. He's softer though - at least when they're alone - than Geralt ever was and he's openly kind to Jaskier even when he doesn't deserve it. They haven't been travelling together long, but Jaskier isn't looking forward to the inevitable separation. 

But he shouldn't compare the two. That's not fair to either of them. He settles into the pillows, shutting his eyes even as the candle is blown out. He was going to offer the bed to Eskel tonight and he feels bad for not remembering it earlier, but he'll make it up to him some other way. 

It's been quiet for some time and he's not even totally sure Eskel is still awake, when he blurts out, "it's about my friend."

"What is?" Eskel asks simply. 

"The song. The one I played tonight, it's about my friend."

"Tell me?" Eskel offers and Jaskier breathes evenly. 

"For a long time, I travelled with someone. A man. A friend, I thought. I loved him, but my feelings were never- he didn't feel the same. Which was fine," he adds in a hurry. "That's not his fault, I still loved him. But he apparently had had enough of me. Two nights before I met you, he told me to leave.

"He was-" he stammers, "you would-" _His name was Geralt_. It's such a simple thing and yet he can't make his voice work. 

"Julian," Eskel breathes, "you don't have to tell me more than you're comfortable with." 

Jaskier doesn't realize he's crying until Eskel climbs up onto the bed next to him. He runs his thumb over his cheek and Jaskier looks anywhere but at him. 

"He found someone else. Just like everyone," he mumbles and Eskel leans up over him. 

"What do you mean, like everyone?"

"Everyone always finds someone else. Even _him_."

"I'm here," Eskel offers, sliding an arm around Jaskier's chest. Neither of them says anything more, but Jaskier curls into the embrace and lets himself fall asleep to the heat of Eskel's body against him and the huff of his breath in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **a/n:** I realize after writing this that Jaskier immediately picking up with another witcher is a little like Geralt claiming the law of surprise after what happens at the engagement feast, but I really like Jaskier/Witchers so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys all again for all of your comments and kudos! You're all so lovely ❤️

They continue on in the morning, but Jaskier's mood doesn't improve. He never should have sung that song in public, nor even in private, because now Geralt is on his mind all hours. He wonders if he and Yennefer reunited, if she would even have him if they did. It's not that he really wants to know, but he doesn't like _not_ knowing about Geralt. 

It's another week or so before they find an inn that will take them, and Jaskier spends the time between considering his music. He tries and fails to write anything worth performing, although when he sings his songs to the darkness, Eskel seems to approve. The night they spend at the inn, Jaskier makes no attempt to seek out employment. 

The next time, he does and it's a mistake. He barely gets through the first set; he's worked himself up again about Geralt and all anyone wants to hear is Toss a Coin tonight. At least news hasn't travelled of Her Sweet Kiss because he doesn't think he could bear to play that again. He's a good showman and that's all that gets him through the first few songs; a smile here and a well-placed wink and no one would suspect anything. 

No one but the Witcher sitting at the back of the room. 

He comes to see Jaskier while he's putting his lute away, snapping the clasps shut and rests a hand between Jaskier's shoulder blades. Jaskier shuts his eyes and presses back into the warmth of his touch. It's one thing he doesn't realize he'd been missing, just the touch of someone else. And when Eskel sits down and pulls him into his lap, Jaskier goes easily. 

He lets himself be drawn in even as he can hear the distaste of people who were singing his praises only moments ago. It doesn't matter, he doesn't care what they think right now because Eskel is the only one who's worried about him. 

"Let me take care of you," he breathes and Jaskier nods. 

He lets himself be bundled up and Eskel takes him upstairs and lays him down on the bed. It's an act of desperation that has him reaching out when Eskel walks away, pulling him back. 

When Eskel kisses him, it's soft and sweet and not at all what Jaskier wants. He pushes and pulls and Eskel gives him what he needs. 

In the morning, Jaskier feels awful, but Eskel silences him with a rough kiss, assuring him that he has nothing to feel bad about. It's fine. Eskel goes about his morning, but Jaskier is still dwelling. As they make to leave the inn, Jaskier steps between Eskel and the door, turning to face him. 

"I can't-" he starts and it's as far as he gets before he doesn't know how to continue. This isn't a relationship and they both know it, but he feels like he's using Eskel and he doesn't know how to explain it without assuming things are more than they are. "I can't do it again, what I had with him. If we travel together, I can't-"

"I don't want anything from you." Eskel lifts his chin and smiles at him. "I just like your company."

It's an agreement that suits them both and Jaskier finds having someone nearby at all times makes him feel better. It's not a desperate need for touch when they come together and there's nothing expected of either of them afterward. He doesn't like to admit it, but having Eskel around and in his bed helps him to keep his mind off other things and Jaskier starts to move on. 

But the weather turns quickly and Jaskier starts to worry about what happens when it gets too cold. In the past, he'd go back to Oxenfurt and spend the colder months there, but he's never had a travelling companion in the winter before. Geralt, presumably, also spent the winters tucked up somewhere nice and warm. 

It's a bitterly cold day when Eskel approaches him about his winter plans. They haven't been able to find an inn and Jaskier's taken back to the early days he travelled with Geralt. He'd forgotten the sheer hatred of Witchers that people still hold and Eskel doesn't have the notoriety to speak for him that Geralt does. It's better than it used to be, he says and Jaskier can't imagine how bad it was before if this is _better_. 

Jaskier's huddled under both their blankets, barely inches from the fire and he's still shivering. He tries not to let it show because he doesn't want Eskel to know how bad it is, but he's a Witcher and Jaskier knows better than to try and keep things from a Witcher. Eskel comes back with a pair of rabbits and sits next to Jaskier. 

"I can't keep you out in this weather any longer. You'll freeze."

"I'm alright," Jaskier shrugs, but his fingers are too cold to play and he can't feel his toes. 

"I'm going to Kaer Morhen for the winter. It's a Witcher stronghold in the North. I'd like you to come with me."

It's a bad idea. Going to Kaer Morhen means almost certainly running into Geralt and he doesn't want to see him and he's been doing better. But on the other hand, they're nowhere close to Oxenfurt and Jaskier's only other viable option is Cintra, which is further. Kaer Morhen is the closest, it's likely the safest and he'll be with Eskel so he won't be alone. 

"All winter with a bunch of Witchers? What could possibly go wrong?" 

Everything, as far as he's concerned, but Eskel seems happy with his answer and they head out early the next morning. They're two weeks out from Kaer Morhen and Jaskier can only hope he lasts that long. 

Eskel tries to keep close to the few cities along the way and tries to keep Jaskier housed whenever they can, but they reach a point where there's nothing left between them and the keep. It becomes a decision of whether to keep on and walk as much as they can to get there quickly or to stop more often and risk taking longer. Most days, it depends on how Jaskier is feeling and they stop to make camp when he gets too cold. 

He feels like a burden and tries to keep going as long as he can. He's not going to complain more than the goat. But when they finally make it to the mountains, Jaskier presses on longer than maybe he should, eager to finally get out of the cold. 

When they reach the keep, Jaskier nearly collapses at the front gate, relieved and exhausted and desperate to be warm. Eskel takes him inside and briefly, introduces him to the only other people there at the moment; Vesemir and a younger man named Leo. It's strange to meet Vesemir after hearing about him from Geralt but he seems kind enough, as far as Witcher's go. Leo is _different_. He doesn't seem like a Witcher and Jaskier isn't quite sure how to react to him. He's quite happy when Eskel takes him away to get settled. 

The rooms are large and comfortable and Jaskier drops onto the bed. There's only one, but Eskel assures him it's not going to be a problem. Presumably, that means he's going to sleep on the floor or something otherwise ridiculous. Jaskier has better plans; they've shared smaller, less comfortable beds. 

For the first time in weeks, Jaskier is hot and he revels in it, sprawling on the fur in front of the fire. He grins up at Eskel. "We don't really have to leave again in the spring, do we?"

"We'll see how the spring turns out."

Jaskier spends three whole, glorious days lazing around the keep and playing for the Witchers in the evenings. They're all much more appreciative of his music than Geralt ever was and he savours it while he can. Then, on the fourth day, Geralt arrives. And he's not alone, which is the only thing that makes his appearance slightly bearable. 

Eskel goes out first when he arrives and Jaskier holds back. He has no reason to follow Eskel; as far as any of the others know, Jaskier knows no one but him. He sits back and listens though, as Eskel goes forward. 

"Ah, the Great White Wolf returns."

"That's still not funny." 

Jaskier's stomach turns and he considers escaping up to their room. It's the first thing he's heard Geralt say since the day they parted and he shuts his eyes, inhaling deeply. 

"You look like shit."

"Hmm." 

"And who's this?"

"Princess Cirilla-" is all Jaskier catches because _oh_ , Geralt went back for her. He wonders what could have happened to get Geralt back to Cintra. Gods know he wouldn't listen to Jaskier when he suggested it. Ciri talks a little more and Eskel is quiet while he listens and then-

"There's someone I want you to meet too, actually." And Jaskier's stomach clenches. 

"I thought you smelled different," Geralt hums. Eskel scoffs in response. 

"Julian?" he calls and Jaskier knows he can't delay any longer. He's going to have to face Geralt sooner or later, it might as well be now. 

He gets up and forces his feet to move, pushing himself through the archway to where Eskel is standing. He slips up next to him, standing maybe just a little too closely. He can hear Eskel introduce him, but he sounds far away and Jaskier can't manage to speak for himself. Instead, he looks at Ciri and she gives him a huge smile which helps to calm him significantly. Even if that's going to be another thing he'll have to admit to Geralt. 

When he finally looks up to meet Geralt’s eyes, he’s frowning. "Who the fuck is Julian?"

"I'm Julian,” Jaskier admits. He doesn't even know how he gets the words out, but the look he gets from Geralt is nearly enough to render him mute for the rest of his life. Geralt looks from him to Eskel like he's expecting an explanation and Jaskier realizes he _does_ look like shit. 

And Jaskier feels terrible about it. He would have thought he'd feel better knowing that Geralt was suffering, too, but he doesn't. He just feels worse. Geralt takes Ciri and leaves the room and Jaskier's heart sinks. He didn't think things could be worse between them than they were and yet. 

"Geralt-" he calls, but the Witcher shows no indication that he even heard him. Jaskier knows better and that knowledge makes him ache. He's left standing alone with Eskel, who looks thoroughly confused and Jaskier drops his arms to his sides, aiming for comical. "Well," he says, "that could have been worse."

Eskel doesn't say anything and Jaskier can't blame him. There's no way he doesn't understand what just happened or at least a part of it. And Jaskier can't just sit here and look at him. He makes an excuse and heads up to their room to avoid seeing Geralt. Jaskier feels like he's shaking so hard he's going to fall apart and it's obvious that not much has changed. Geralt still wants nothing to do with him and all he can hope is that his feelings don't rub off on Ciri. 

The fire is out in the room when he gets there and he piles logs in but struggles to get them lit. He’s fumbling with bits of kindling when the door opens behind him and footsteps cross the room toward him. When a warm hand presses down on his shoulder, Jaskier relents, dropping the sticks and slumping back against Eskel's legs. Eskel gently pulls him aside and kneels down, forming a sign with his hands and lighting the fire with ease.

"Thanks," Jaskier mumbles and Eskel takes a seat next to him. 

"Geralt," Eskel says quietly. "He's the one who hurt you? He looks terrible."

"Good," Jaskier says instinctively. 

"I mean, it doesn't seem like he's been handling it well. Whatever happened between you."

"That's his own fault. He had a choice, I didn't."

"I'm not defending him,” Eskel says gently. “I did wonder why you didn't run away when you met me. It wouldn't be the first time someone took off when they saw me." It's supposed to be a joke, but Jaskier leans into him. 

"I think you're lovely." Eskel snorts and Jaskier looks up at the fire. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I knew you and Geralt knew each other and I didn't want to get involved. I know he's your friend, but he hurt me."

"I don't blame you for being upset. It's not my fight," Eskel says. Jaskier nods and he understands. Right now, he just wants to go to sleep and Eskel doesn't try to stop him. He finds Jaskier an extra blanket and wraps him up in it, leaving him in front of the fire. 

When Jaskier wakes, he aches from sitting in the same position for so long and when he stretches out, a chill runs through him. The fire is burning low and he wonders how long he's been sleeping for. Getting up and holding the blanket around his shoulders he adds another log to the fire and hopes not to stifle it. 

He moves from the floor to the bed, leaning back against the wall. Of all the messes he's landed in, this one is without question, his own fault. He thinks back to Geralt's words on the mountain and squeezes his eyes shut. 

It's late when Eskel comes back to the room and Jaskier shuffles over to make space for him. Eskel sits down next to him, but faces out into the room, not climbing into bed as Jaskier expected him to. 

"Geralt told me what he said to you. I don't blame you for not wanting to talk to him." 

"It's not-" he tries, but Eskel turns to look at him. 

"Geralt is an idiot," he says and it's the first time Jaskier realizes he's upset about the situation. But he's not mad _at_ Jaskier, he's mad _for_ him. 

"I know," Jaskier agrees, "but the worst part is I want to but he obviously still wants nothing to do with me."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

Jaskier doesn't sleep well and he wakes up early. Eskel is still asleep and Jaskier creeps around him, determined not to wake him as he slips from their room out into the cool morning. He sneaks out onto the balcony and wanders down into the yard, the blanket still wrapped tightly around his shoulders. 

He likes it out in the yard because he likes the snow and it's peaceful enough that he can hear himself think. Only this morning, thinking doesn't go very well because he's only alone for a few minutes. He turns at the sound of footsteps, expecting to see Eskel coming up behind him, but it's not Eskel. Jaskier's heart leaps into his throat at the sight of Geralt walking across the balcony and he turns back, staring directly ahead. 

"You smell like him," is all he says and Jaskier doesn't scoff, but it's a close call. 

"I don't think it's relevant to you who I smell like."

"Jaskier-"

"No," Jaskier turns, heart pounding and stares at him. "You have no right to comment on anything I do. _You_ left _me_ Geralt. You told me you didn't want me anymore and so I left. I spent more of my life with you than without you and that still wasn't enough for you. You hurt me, Geralt, it's none of your business who I smell like." His voice comes out shakier than he means it to and he looks up above Geralt's head to keep from saying something stupid. 

Geralt comes closer and Jaskier can't do anything to stop him because he knows if he tries, he'll break. And when Geralt's arms wind around his waist, Jaskier does nothing to stop him. 

"I'm sorry," he breathes, and Jaskier, because he's weak and desperate, clings to him. 

"I'm still mad at you."

"Okay," Geralt says but he doesn't let him go and Jaskier doesn't make him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with this story and for all your kudos and comments!

Eskel is still asleep when Jaskier slips back into the room and he doesn't want to wake him. Exhaling slowly, he leans back against the door and his legs give out under him. He's in a daze and he can still feel Geralt's arms around him, pressing tight and refusing to let go. He never actually expected an apology and it's overwhelming but he's torn in a way he never expected to be. 

If he returns to travelling with Geralt, he feels like he'll be betraying Eskel, which is not a problem he ever thought he'd have, but he let himself get too close. Sighing, Jaskier picks himself up from the floor and crosses to the bed, careful not to wake Eskel, and lays down next to him. When a warm arm wraps around his hip and pulls him closer, Jaskier doesn't resist. He presses close and inhales Eskel's scent and when his heart gives a contented little flutter, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it before. Shit. 

All this does it make his decision harder because with Eskel there might be the chance of reciprocations and with Geralt, there isn't. But Geralt is, well... he's Geralt. The way Jaskier's chest tightens at the thought of leaving either one makes him wonder if he'll ever know what to do. 

He rolls over, pressing his face into Eskel's chest and deliberately not thinking about it right now. But Eskel shifts, curling an arm under Jaskier and pulling him close as he rolls onto his back. 

"Is everything alright?" he asks drowsily. 

"What do you mean?"

"You were up early this morning and you didn't come back for a while. You spoke with Geralt." Jaskier hums an affirmation but doesn't say anything. "You’re still in love with him."

Jaskier doesn't want to answer, but the word _yes_ inevitably slips out. Eskel doesn't let him go, he doesn't move away and Jaskier isn't quite sure what to do about that. So he stays. And when Eskel finally crawls out of bed, he goes downstairs with him. 

Coen shows up that afternoon and he's briefly introduced to Jaskier and Ciri before Jaskier sneaks away. The others are quite occupied and he's not feeling up to company right now. So he finds a big empty room and steals away to try and write. 

He hopes it will help to clear his head, but there's already so much going on up there that trying to write only makes him feel more muddled. So instead of writing, he plays songs he knows well and drinks vodka and wine. It's a bad combination, but he runs out of vodka early and wine is all he can find on his own. He tells himself he's giving Geralt and Eskel space to be with their friend, but really, he's not sure what to say to either of them when he sees them again. 

Jaskier is drunk by the time he leaves the room. He's wobbly and his eyes are heavy, so he's hoping to find the room warm, but empty so he can crawl into bed and pass out. But when he gets there, the room is not vacant. Eskel is laying on the bed, shirtless with a book in his hands. He glances up briefly as Jaskier comes into the room, but he doesn't seem interested. Jaskier frowns. 

He's frustrated with his inability to figure out his own feelings - something he's never had an issue with in the past - and with the fact that he doesn't know how to act around Geralt anymore. Whatever he does feels wrong; if he acts like himself, he could wind up in the same place as before, but if he pretends to be anything else, is it really worth it? Eskel is the only constant in his life lately and while he feels guilty being with him while he's thinking about another man, he _likes_ being with Eskel. 

Which is probably what has him crossing the room in a few quick strides and climbing up onto the bed. He pulls Eskel's book out of his hand and leans down to set it on the floor. The look he gets in response is less indignant, more curious. He doesn't move as Jaskier climbs into his lap and when Jaskier's fingers slip up his chest, pressing into loose curls, Eskel smiles at him. 

"You're drunk," he says, but he sounds amused and Jaskier leans in to kiss his neck, humming against his skin. Warm hands slide up his thighs and settle on his hips and Jaskier shifts, settling in his lap. 

Jaskier knows exactly how to get him worked up and he starts at his neck, just letting his teeth graze over Eskel's skin. He gets a stuttered breath in response and Eskel's fingers tighten around his hips. Jaskier counts that as a win. He shifts his hips and he can feel the effect he has on Eskel, the way his body moves under him, pressing up to fill the space between them. He's warm and eager under him and when Eskel rolls his hips, Jaskier feels the full length of him press up against him. 

Eskel turns him in his lap, spreading his legs to fit Jaskier between them. He presses him close, lying him back against his chest and Jaskier settles, winding his arms backward around Eskel's neck. Eskel tugs at his clothes and Jaskier ducks out of his shirt, dropping his head back to mouth at Eskel's jaw. 

The groan he gets in response is all the encouragement he needs and Jaskier pushes his hips back, grinding against Eskel's cock. He’s met this time with a low moan and he runs his hands over Eskel's thighs. Dexterous fingers slide under the waist of Jaskier's pants and Jaskier arches off of him, pushing his hips off the bed and he groans as Eskel's fingers avoid his cock. 

" _Eskel_ ," he whines and he gets a dark chuckle in response. Eskel's lips graze his ear and a shudder runs down Jaskier's spine. He slumps against Eskel, leaning his head back and the Witcher seems pleased with his compliance. 

He mumbles against Jaskier's ear and runs his hands down his chest, pulling open Jaskier's pants and slipping inside. Jaskier writhes in impatience and when Eskel finally touches him, he feels like he's going to explode. It's been a while since they've been together and Jaskier's been pent up in more way than one. 

Eskel kisses his neck and Jaskier shoves at his own pants, pushing them further down his legs and pressing up into the heat of Eskel's hand. Eskel presses a firm hand to his hip and Jaskier tries to keep still but he's drunk and horny and Eskel feels too good against him. He's hard and Jaskier wants him more than he has in months. He's trying to figure out how to get Eskel to fuck him when there's a knock on the door. But Jaskier isn't paying attention, too preoccupied with the way Eskel's hands slip down and when he presses behind his balls, Jaskier lets out a breathy groan. 

" _Oh, yes_ ," he moans and just as he's rocking his hips back, the bedroom door pushes open. Jaskier rolls his head to see who the fuck is interrupting him and he nearly rolls out of bed when he sees Geralt standing in the door. 

_Fuck, fuck fuck_. He is not nearly drunk enough for this.

Eskel, at least, is on the same page and he takes his hand back, keeping out of the way as Jaskier slides off the bed. 

Geralt only hesitates for a moment before turning and pulling the door shut as he leaves. And Jaskier could slap himself for being such an idiot. He's barely got Geralt back in his life and he's fucking things up again. Even if Geralt didn't want a romantic relationship, which is likely, he doesn't think this is the way to repair things between them. 

"I'm sorry," he breathes, turning to Eskel and tugging his pants up as he crosses the room. 

He follows Geralt out into the hallway but Geralt doesn't stop and Jaskier is struggling to keep up with him and keep his trousers up. When he finally does catch up with him, Geralt turns around sharply. He looks angry and hurt and Jaskier doesn't understand. 

"You stink like him," is all he says, but he doesn't move and Jaskier doesn't know what he's supposed to do or say now that he's caught him. 

"You wanted something," he pants and when Geralt looks at him he almost loses the courage to continue. "Why did you come to the room?"

"I'll talk to you in the morning. Go to bed, Jaskier."

"Geralt-"

"Go to bed."

 _Fuck_. Well, there goes any shot they ever had at anything more than their awkward friendship. Jaskier doesn't fight as Geralt walks away and he slumps against the wall and drops to the floor. He's too drunk to pull himself up again and he doesn't really want to anyway. He just ran out on Eskel and Geralt doesn't even want to talk to him.

Jaskier wakes up in bed with his head aching and no one next to him. He groans and pulls a pillow over his head. For a little while, he sits and sulks, but eventually, he has to get up and find Eskel or Geralt and apologize. 

Except when he goes to find them, neither of them seem to want to be found. Jaskier's heart aches because he knew eventually he was going to do something stupid and hurt someone he loved, but he didn't think he'd hurt two of them. He knows he's responsible in some way, for both their disappearances and he spends the rest of the day trying to figure out how to make it up to either of them.

After a couple of hours, he comes to the conclusion that neither of them has any right to be upset with him. Well, maybe Eskel because he did run out on him last night. But Geralt left him first, Geralt threw away the chance to have Jaskier in his life and anyone Jaskier chose to be with after that was his decision. It's not like Geralt ever wanted him that way anyway. 

So why does he still feel so guilty about it?

Eskel returns to him that night, crawling into bed well after midnight like nothing at all happened. The only indication he gives that he knows things are tense is when he hesitates before curling around Jaskier. But Jaskier is exhausted and he'll take what he can get tonight, even if it might make things worse for himself in the morning. He pulls Eskel's arm over him and presses back against his chest.

He doesn't see Geralt for three days.

It's a big place, but it's not that big and Jaskier can't help the feeling of panic that creeps up on him, worsening every day that he doesn't see Geralt. Eskel assures him that Geralt will be fine and Ciri is still around so he counts that as a good sign.

But he dwells on it, regretting drinking so much and going to Eskel that night. He wants to know why Geralt was there, why he couldn't just tell him then. And why was he so upset about finding him with Eskel? Surely, of all people, Geralt knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to stop having sex just because he'd been thrown aside. It was probably because Eskel's a witcher, Jaskier tells himself, because he and Geralt grew up together, nothing more. But the more time that passes, the more personal it begins to seem.

On the fourth day, Jaskier asks the others and Lambert, annoyed with Geralt's sulking, as he put it, takes Jaskier to his room.

"Try and talk some sense into him," he says and then he's gone and Jaskier is alone outside Geralt's bedroom. His courage leaves him then and Jaskier retreats to his own room.

It's not until after midnight, when everyone else is already asleep, that Jaskier sneaks back out to Geralt's room. 

He creeps down the hall knowing at least Eskel knows what he's doing tonight, but there was no way to get away without him knowing. Jaskier has his support, at least. He is determined to go through with this, but when he's standing in front of the door, knowing the likelihood of Geralt being behind it, his courage falters. Reaching out and holding his breath, he knocks on the door. 

There's a moment of silence and then Jaskier hears him in there, crossing over to the door. When he opens it, he looks like he's only pulled on a pair of trousers because he has company, but when he sees who it is he turns and goes back to lie on the bed. 

Not a great start, but he didn't shut the door in his face. Jaskier steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. Geralt says nothing, so Jaskier shifts his weight and sighs. 

"I'm sorry about the other night," he says. He wants to say he was drunk, to use that as an excuse but while it's not a lie, it's not the reason he was with Eskel either. Nor was it the first time. 

Geralt grunts but doesn't look up. 

"Right, well. I suppose that's me again then. You've been fucking Yen for years so you don't have the right to punish me for sleeping with whoever I choose." This isn't what he came here for, but it feels good to finally get it off his chest and now that he's started- "and another thing, you know _you_ told _me_ to leave, right? You told me if life could-"

"I know what I said," Geralt interrupts. 

"And then you come here and act like this."

Geralt's jaw clenches, but he doesn't say anything. And when Jaskier doesn't either, Geralt turns, sliding his legs off the side of the bed to face him. 

"I never _wanted_ you to leave," he says and Jaskier nearly chokes on the air. He splutters to come up with a response and Geralt just continues. "Yen saw me for who I really am that day and yes, I was mad at her for leaving and I took it out on you. But I was..." he sighs like he can't find the words and shuts his eyes. "I was afraid you'd see me too. If Yen could see the monster I really am, how long would it take you to figure it out? It wasn't fair," he admits. "I know you were trying to help, but all I could think in that moment was _how long until he goes, too?_ and it was easier to-" 

Jaskier stops and realizes he's crossed the room without being aware of it. He's got one arm outstretched, his fingers hovering just inches from Geralt's shoulder. 

"I didn't expect you to find someone else. I don't know why." Geralt looks up at him and Jaskier forgets how to breathe for a second. 

Jaskier's never heard him say so much at once and he struggles to process it all, so he focuses on that last bit. Because Geralt thinks he replaced him. 

"That's not what this is," Jaskier says. "I was- well, Eskel was kind to me when I needed it. I didn't seek out someone to replace you."

Geralt huffs and looks away from him and Jaskier moves without thinking. He slides his fingers under his chin, turning his head back to look at him. 

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous. But you needn't be,” he says softly, “I've thought about you every day since you sent me away. I didn't want to, but there you are. How do you forget about someone who was your whole life?"

"You don't," Geralt agrees and Jaskier would swear, even without delicate Witcher hearing, that he chokes on the words. Jaskier's heart thuds heavily in his chest, drowning out any semblance of rational thought. He doesn't know what to say to that because he didn't think Geralt thought about him at all when they were apart. He never thought he was important to him at all and even when they were together, he sometimes wondered why Geralt kept him around. 

He doesn't realize he's saying all these things out loud until Geralt's fingers slip around his own. The soft touch snaps him back to reality and he stares at Geralt. 

"Of course you're important."

"Oh."

"Jaskier," Geralt says softly, "did you really think after twenty-two years, you were nothing to me?"

"Well not nothing, maybe. An annoyance? You did say quite often that-" 

Geralt cups a hand around his cheek and in one swift motion, he rises from the bed and presses his lips to Jaskier's. _Oh_. Jaskier's brain struggles to catch up, but his body, at least, knows what it's doing. 

"You're not an annoyance."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is over??? Thank you guys for all your lovely words and know that I read every single comment and loved them all, even if I didn't have time to reply. If you're into Jaskier x Eskel or Geralt x Jaskier x Eskel stay tuned because I have like 6 more fics coming (at some point!) Thanks for sticking with me through this <3

"You're not an annoyance." 

When Geralt draws back, Jaskier's arms coil around the back of his neck, hauling him back and coaxing a little huff of a laugh from the Witcher. Jaskier's heart nearly stops and he'll never forget that sound as long as he lives. 

He presses close against him and Geralt's hands settle on his lower back, rucking up his shirt as Jaskier moves against him. His hands pull possessively at his clothes and Jaskier barely remembers how to breathe. For years, Jaskier spent his nights lying across their camp and thinking about Geralt's hands on him, wondering what he would be like. Not like this, that's for certain. 

Geralt is pushy, but not trying to overpower and he uses his strength to his advantage, keeping Jaskier against him. And he touches him constantly; both his hands are on him at all times and Jaskier's sure he's going to knock him over the way he paws at him. But Jaskier loves it. He leans into every touch and when Geralt's mouth drifts from his lips, he drops his head back to give him space. 

He takes a step back, so to speak, letting Geralt take the lead and do what he wants with him. In his life, there are few things Jaskier has found he's unwilling to do, less if Geralt is the one asking, and tonight more than ever. He lets out a little huff of surprise as Geralt's teeth press into his skin and a shiver runs through his upper body. Geralt's hands slip lower and Jaskier shuts his eyes, focusing on the way his fingers tug at his clothes; it's a tease, a hint of what's to come, but he wants out of his clothes now. And more than that, he wants Geralt out of _his_ clothes. 

Jaskier's seen him naked more times than he can count, but that was different. That was about bathing and there were unspoken boundaries and as much as he wanted to touch, he wasn't allowed. He is now and he intends to take advantage of that as soon as Geralt will let him. But Geralt has other ideas. 

He crouches down and Jaskier isn't sure where he's going, but his arms wind around the backs of Jaskier's knees and he hauls him up into his arms. He kisses him again and Jaskier melts against him as Geralt turns them and climbs up onto the bed. Jaskier is pressed back against the soft furs and Geralt's nose presses into his neck, kissing him softly and moving down over his collar. 

Jaskier keeps his arms around Geralt's neck, running his fingers through his hair. He feels soft and relaxed, despite the current of lust running through him and as Geralt moves down his body, he lets out a soft sigh. 

Geralt tugs at his shirt, untucking it and kissing along the exposed strip of skin. Jaskier squirms under the attention, pushing for Geralt to move lower, but he's not getting the hint. As he crawls back up again, he pushes Jaskier's shirt up his stomach, letting his palms brush over his skin. Jaskier has to sit up to let him get it over his head and as Geralt tosses the shirt aside, he wraps one arm around Jaskier's back, holding him up. 

Jaskier manages to squirm out of his grasp, flipping Geralt onto his back with surprisingly little effort and he grins down at him. He pushes Geralt's hands up above his head because as much as he loves letting him have his way, Jaskier is getting impatient and he _really_ wants to touch him. 

"You're beautiful," he breathes and Geralt just snorts at him, ducking his chin and looking away. But Jaskier is determined; if this is going to become anything, he's going to spend the rest of his damn life trying to make Geralt realize it's true. 

He dips down, kissing Geralt's chest and he smooths his hands up over his shoulders, shifting to sit between Geralt's legs. Jaskier is about to move when Geralt gets one leg around his and pulls him down. He gives Jaskier a smirk as they're pressed together and rocks his hips up against him. 

Jaskier stutters and drops to his elbows, ignoring the huff of amusement from next to him. He forgets what he's doing because Geralt is already hard and _fuck_ , he's big. He presses his nose into Geralt's neck, rolling his hips down in response and it feels so good when Geralt responds. But he can feel how big and hard Geralt is under him and he itches to get his mouth on him. Jaskier presses him down against the bed, groaning shakily as Geralt rocks up against him again. 

"Stop that," he huffs and Geralt's hands slide up his thighs, holding him in place as he grinds his hips up. Ignoring him as best he can, Jaskier shifts down the bed, bending low and pressing his lips to Geralt's belly. 

He kisses his way down, tugging on the ties of his trousers until they're loose enough to push down his legs. Geralt bites his lip as his cock slaps against his stomach and Jaskier leans up over him. 

"No no no," Jaskier hums, "I want to hear you." 

Geralt seems unwilling to comply, but when Jaskier gets him fully naked, he rolls his head back against the pillow. It's a start, Jaskier decides, but he's determined to get more out of him and he knows he's capable. Only once did he ever have a lover who was entirely silent and at that point, both their safety depended on it. 

Jaskier shuffles back, letting his lips brush down over Geralt's hips. He pauses at the vee of his hips, sucking softly at the sensitive skin before moving in toward his cock. He starts slow, licking up the length of him and Geralt clenches his jaw, fingers digging into the sheets. 

Jaskier works his way up, denying his own urge to fit as much as Geralt's cock in his mouth as he can manage. He teases him, pressing his lips to the head and pulling away again, sweeping his tongue up the full length of him but refusing to take it further. And he gets exactly what he's looking for. Before he even gets him in his mouth, Geralt's hips are twitching with need. He reaches down, pushing his fingers through Jaskier's hair and it's probably just natural for him, but there's something so possessive about the way he does it that leaves Jaskier breathless. 

Without hesitation, he licks up to the head of Geralt's cock and wraps his lips around him. Geralt's hips jerk and Jaskier does his best to take as much of him in as he can. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock, stroking in time with his mouth and he learns quickly what makes Geralt arch off the bed. 

Geralt is surprisingly vocal with a mouth wrapped around his cock and while it's incredibly hot to listen to the filthy words pilling from his lips, Jaskier is struggling. He's been hard since the beginning and his cock is still trapped, pressed firmly and uncomfortably against the front of his trousers. Which will probably be ruined after this because he can feel the beads of pre-come rolling down his cock and in this position, he's unable to do anything about it. 

Geralt sits up with a muttered, " _fuck_ " and slips his hand around the back of Jaskier's head, firm but not controlling. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but Jaskier sinks down on him, taking him deeper than before, and whatever words he was planning on saying are lost to the moan that fills the air. And Jaskier swells with pride though he shifts uncomfortably. 

The hand that was in his hair slips lower and Geralt pulls away, much to Jaskier's disappointment, but Geralt doesn't pull away like he's expecting him to. His fingertips press into the back of Jaskier's neck and his other hand rises to Jaskier's shoulder. It's then that he moves, slipping both hands under Jaskier's arms and pulling him up to kiss him. Jaskier groans his displeasure at being interrupted, but Geralt's mouth is hot and wanting against his own and his complaints are short-lived. 

Geralt rolls him onto his back, but he stays on his knees, keeping his body away from Jaskier. He's deaf to Jaskier's complaints, but he kisses his neck, nuzzling against him and Jaskier runs his fingers down his chest. He gets a hand around Geralt's cock and the startled moan he gets in response is worth the lack of contact. Geralt moves up, rocking lightly between Jaskier's fingers as he kisses him, mumbling soft praise into his skin. Jaskier hangs on every word, tightening his grip around Geralt's cock as stubble rubs against his collarbone. 

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as Geralt's hand creeps down his stomach, sending a shiver up his spine as his fingers brush just above the waist of his trousers. Geralt pauses and Jaskier could scream, but Geralt doesn't leave him hanging for long. He pulls out of Jaskier's grasp, letting out a shuddered breath as Jaskier's fingers brush against the head of his cock. He sits back, pulling at the ties of Jaskier's trousers. He slips his fingers under the silky fabric, teasing the sensitive skin and it's a good thing Jaskier's laying down because he would probably fall over with the way he shudders under the touch. 

Geralt doesn't push any further and Jaskier whines when he draws away. But Geralt keeps touching him, and Jaskier returns the favour, running his fingers through Geralt's hair and rubbing his shoulders. When Geralt finally moves down, tugging at Jaskier's trousers, Jaskier pushes his hips up, breathing hard as the remainder of his clothes are discarded on the floor. 

Geralt gets right between his legs, leaning low over him to kiss his hips and moves slowly down, narrowly avoiding the thick line of his cock. He pushes him up the bed and Jaskier hums, reaching down to push his fingers through Geralt's hair as teeth graze the inside of his thighs. 

" _Please_ ," he breathes and his voice comes out cracked and desperate. 

"What do you want?" Geralt mumbles into his skin. Jaskier groans as Geralt sucks at his skin and he rolls his head to the side looking down at him. 

"Touch me," he pleads. " _Geralt_."

Geralt hums and smiles against his skin, and Jaskier bites his lip as he watches him. As Geralt's fingers slip up the length of his cock, Jaskier presses himself into the bed, whimpering with the pleasure that sears through him. His hips press up on their own, seeking the heat of Geralt's hands and he's not disappointed. Geralt wraps around him, stroking slowly to the head of his cock as his mouth moves up his inner thighs. 

He nips and bites at his skin, sucking marks into Jaskier's thighs. Jaskier watches him and _gods_ , he is so in love with him and the way his tongue smoothes over every bite, the way his fingers seek out the bruises that bloom on his skin. Geralt makes his way up slowly and when he slides his hand over the head of Jaskier's cock, his mouth takes its place, sliding up his length and sucking at the head. 

Jaskier groans as Geralt reaches up over him and it earns him a hum and a flick of Geralt's tongue as he slides back into place. He's got a bottle of oil in his hand and Jaskier squirms with impatience, pressing his hips up persuasively. Geralt looks up at him and with a mouthful of Jaskier's cock, the inquiring look doesn't quite come across, but it leaves Jaskier breathless nonetheless. He drops back against the bed with a groan just as slick fingers slip up the inside of his thigh. 

It's slow and Jaskier holds his breath as Geralt presses up, sliding back behind his balls. He pushes between his cheeks, just grazing against his hole and Jaskier rocks his hips to push him further. He gets exactly what he wants and Geralt must be getting impatient, too because he doesn't hesitate. He slides in up to the first knuckle, testing Jaskier's sensitivity and when he gets nothing but a groan in response, he presses further. 

Jaskier whines. Even with his lack of hesitation, Geralt is taking his time and Jaskier _wants_. He rocks his hips and squirms and when Geralt finally slides a second finger in with the first, Jaskier moans loudly, arching off the bed. He gropes blindly, sliding his fingers over Geralt's cheeks and hauling him up off his cock to kiss him. 

He tastes himself on Geralt's tongue and it stirs something in him. It's hot and primal and he wants Geralt _right fucking now_. Geralt continues, thrusting two fingers into him as Jaskier babbles against his lips. 

"Geralt," he whines, " _fuck, please_ -" He groans again as Geralt thrusts hard into him, curving his fingers and seeking out that sensitive spot. And when he finds it, Jaskier sees stars. He arches off the bed, whimpering and begging and slides his hands into Geralt's hair, tugging as Geralt presses a third finger against his rim. 

" _Oh_ ," Jaskier breathes. " _Gods, Geralt_." He wiggles his hips encouragingly, but when Geralt presses into him, he whines desperately. Geralt picks up speed, fucking into him with his fingers and Jaskier is loud and whiny, but he can't help it. 

Geralt kisses him to keep him quiet, but Jaskier just groans against his mouth and pulls him up closer. He gets an arm up under Jaskier's shoulder and as he draws out, he pushes his fingers into Jaskier's hair. He shifts between Jaskier's legs, adjusting himself and when he presses his cock against him, Jaskier nearly forgets to breathe. The fingers in his hair, rub soothingly against his head and Jaskier relaxes against him. 

Geralt keeps his eyes on him, but Jaskier struggles to keep his eyes open at all because Geralt is huge and _fuck_ , he feels good. Jaskier gets his arms around Geralt's neck, breathing softly as Geralt moves inside him. He keeps his pace steady, letting Jaskier adjust to the size of him and Jaskier is so wrapped up in the feel of him that he doesn't realize how much he's talking until Geralt kisses him hard and rolls them over so Jaskier is settled above him. 

Jaskier groans, sitting back on Geralt's cock as Geralt's hands slide from his hair to settle on his hips. He guides him lightly as Jaskier pushes his hips forward and one hand slides up his chest. 

Geralt likes to touch him, running his hands up Jaskier's stomach and over his shoulders. He presses his thumb to Jaskier's bottom lip and Jaskier nearly moans as he pushes between his lips. He runs his tongue along the tip of Geralt's finger and he can see the spark of lust in Geralt's eyes as he does it. Fingers slip up his neck and back down over his collarbone and Jaskier groans softly, snapping his hips forward. 

As Jaskier's pleasure rises, his control slips and the purposeful roll of his hips becomes quick and jerky. Geralt steadies him, but as Jaskier's fingers dig into his chest, it's a pointless gesture; Jaskier's too eager. When Geralt stops him completely, Jaskier groans in frustration, but his complaints are cut short. Geralt bundles him up against his chest and lifting him, pulls himself up onto a seated position with Jaskier backwards in his lap.

The new position is closer, more intimate and Geralt is in a better position to touch him. He slides his hands up Jaskier's thighs, kisses his neck and chest and just when Jaskier thinks Geralt can't possibly make him feel any better than this, thick fingers wrap around his cock.

He's almost embarrassed about the strangled moan that rips from his throat, but he feels the way Geralt's body reacts to it and the worry seeps away. He can't help but rock up into his hand, arching against his chest and describing in as much detail as he can muster, the glory and skill of Geralt's hands.

Jaskier learns back against him, his head rolling against Geralt's shoulder as his legs shake under him. Geralt's fingers pull up, touching lightly, barely brushing against his skin and he leans in close, letting his lips brush against Jaskier's ear.

"You're perfect," he breathes, "look at you, Jaskier..." Geralt trails off, breathing the rest of his words into Jaskier's neck. He teases him, talking softly into his ear and Jaskier doesn't think he'll survive.

He comes with Geralt's mouth on his neck, his fingers wrapped firmly around his cock and it nearly knocks him over. Geralt doesn't let up, holding Jaskier's hips and fucking into him. His hips twitch and Jaskier can feel the way he's struggling to keep himself steady. So he leans back, turning himself to wrap an arm around Geralt's neck and kiss him. It earns him a low, desperate moan that Jaskier feels all the way down to his toes and Geralt kisses him hard as his hips jerk. 

His mouth is hot and needy and Jaskier kisses him through his orgasm, grinding his hips down as Geralt's fingers dig into his skin. 

When Geralt relaxes, Jaskier settles against him, dropping his head back. He shuts his eyes, inhaling the scent of Geralt's hair as soft, tender kisses are pressed into his shoulder. His limbs are loose and if it wasn't for Geralt holding him up, he might have collapsed entirely. 

When they finally disentangle themselves, Jaskier flops onto his back, smiling over at Geralt as he cuddles up against him. Geralt's arm is heavy as it drapes across his chest and Jaskier tries to squirm out from under him. 

"I'm gross," he protests, but Geralt just tugs him closer and presses his nose into Jaskier's neck. 

"I'll pour you a bath in the morning," he breathes. While Jaskier loves the idea of having their roles reversed, he does want to be clean _now_ and he's torn.

After a moments' consideration, Jaskier decides that he doesn't have the energy - mentally or physically - to push Geralt away, so he settles in against his chest and shuts his eyes. In the morning, he's sure he'll regret not bathing, but for now, he's content. 

When Jaskier wakes up, there's already a bath ready for him and Geralt is waiting in it. They don't linger in the bath, much to Jaskier's disappointment, but his stomach reminds him he still needs to eat. _Next time_ , he tells himself. 

Once he's dressed, Jaskier makes his way down to the main hall for breakfast, but he doesn't even make it to the stairs before running into Eskel. _Fuck_. He's been floating around after talking to Geralt and a heavy feeling of guilt settles over him. 

"You worked things out then?" Eskel asks.

"You hear?"

His lips twitch at the corner, pulling into a smirk. "The whole keep heard."

"Oh-" Jaskier chokes, "I'm sorry-"

"Don't be." Eskel reaches out, touches him softly and Jaskier resists the urge to pull back.

"It's just, Geralt-" he looks into Eskel's eyes and his stomach still does that stupid little flip-flop, even after spending the night in Geralt's bed. "I love him," he admits, "but Geralt isn't in a place to tell me who I can and can't be with and you- if he truly wants me, he's going to have to accept that he's not the only one in my life." 

Eskel grins at him and tension releases from Jaskier's shoulders that he didn't even know he was holding. 

" _Jaskier_ ," Geralt's voice is soft over his shoulder.

Oh. Fuck. It doesn't take much to realize he's been set up, Jaskier looks at Eskel, raising his eyes accusingly. 

"You knew he was there," he says and Eskel just smiles. "Geralt, I-" he turns to look at him and Geralt's expression is soft.

"I know. I could smell it on you the minute you walked in here. You haven't been that happy in a long time, you don't have to explain."

"And you're okay with that?" Jaskier asks, breathless. He turns back to Geralt because it seems impossible that he doesn't have to choose. He's been expecting to have to hurt one or the other, but here he is sandwiched between two of them being told he doesn't. It's hard to believe because he doesn't get good things like this. But Geralt presses up against his back, sliding his hands over his hips. 

"I almost lost you once," he says, "I'm not going to do it again. I've watched you go off with men and women in every town we've been to, at least this time I'll know I can trust you'll be safe."

 _Oh_. He hadn't thought about it like that.

"And no one is going to mess with a bard who's got two Witchers at his back," Eskel smirks. His eyes flick up to Geralt's and he shuffles Jaskier closer, slipping his hands just above Geralt's.

When he leans in, pressing his lips to Jaskier's neck, Jaskier drops his head back against Geralt's shoulder. "How did I get so lucky?" he breathes. 

That night, he falls asleep in Eskel's bed, pinned between the two of them and he's never felt so overwhelmingly happy in his life. Eskel shifts in his sleep and Geralt groans in response, pressing his nose into Jaskier's hair. Jaskier wonders absently how people could be so afraid of these men who have done nothing but make him feel safe and wanted - one small incident with a dragon notwithstanding.

When Jaskier leaves Kaer Morhen in the first weeks of spring, he leaves alone. Eskel has already left and Geralt is due to go any day, and Jaskier longs for new adventures, but not now. They've spent three glorious months together, but living with a bunch of Witchers makes you appreciate your own company. And Jaskier isn't worried. He's leaving alone now, but he knows it won't be long before one of his Witchers crosses his path again.


End file.
